My Eric Times by Sheila Sonka

My memories of Eric started back when he was a student at Stonewall Elementary, and Joy asked me to tutor him in our home. Math offered a special challenge to Eric, and I soon discovered Eric offered a special challenge to me! He was able to get me off-track in a heartbeat that first session. This was not going to be as easy as I thought—he came armed with a charming smile, polite words and artwork that he wanted to share with me. I soon realized that teaching him math was going to be the easiest part of this job—keeping him on task was to be my challenge. Our future sessions did get around to math, but I always allowed him to show me some of his “aircraft artwork”, too.

We would meet to work on math at other segments of Eric’s educational path. High school visits, college visits and even preparation for a military exam allowed us to reunite. Those visits were so much fun for me. Eric had matured without losing his childlike personality. I can’t remember any of my other tutoring clients spending so much of our sessions smiling so broadly. Math is not supposed to be that enjoyable!

I was so honored to be invited to the Terhune home for a ceremony for Eric’s commissioning. He could always light up a room, and he certainly did that day. What a loss for our country, his family and friends…and me. To never be able to spend those short, infrequent, but quality sessions with Eric leaves me sad—but mostly proud.

This Fourth of July seems a fitting time to thank you, Joy and Dan, for letting me into Eric’s life. You raised a fabulous grandson! God bless you.

Sheila Sonka

From Sosuke Sagara

Just tuned in to see D-Ring's page.

I served with Capt. Terhune in Iraq, in 2007. It was a short deployment to a combat zone, but taxing nonetheless. I'm certain that his professional skill as a forward air controller contributed to one of the many airstrikes that made our area of operations a safer one to exist in.

When I heard that Capt. Terhune passed on, I was in our company office. I immediately brought his address up on the computer, and shot an email that read "Just heard; What happened?" to his account. I only then realized that he'd never respond. It was a fairly crushing realization, and I try not to think much of it.

Capt. Terhune was the most easily approachable officer I've ever had the pleasure of dealing with. The fortune of dealing with, really. Even the most aggressive and intolerant of our ranks found him very likeable and knowledgable. Much of his time was spent in the well-deck, helping Marines understand the inner workings of close air support.

I don't know if you were aware of this, but his funeral was scheduled to be picketed by the Westboro Baptist Church, a hate group that pickets the funerals of soldiers and Marines. Up until the day prior, they planned to carry out this protest, and several of our Marines had conspired to cause them a good amount of harm if they carried it out. If not for a generous radio talk-show host, I shudder to think of the brig time and bad press we may have had to endure. A talk show host who's name I cannot recall offered the church an hour of free air-time in lieu of protesting that funeral, and they accepted. Thank God they accepted.

After this, I emailed the "church" about Capt. Terhune. They often get emails from viewers of their site, questioning their horrible ways. They respond with a slew of filth and angry insults, in general. I told them that I couldn't understand how they could consider picketing the funeral of Capt. Terhune, as he was one of the best men I could think of. Everyone around him knew of his faith, and I'm not sure even one of us can remember hearing the man curse.

I watched another officer play a joke on Capt. Terhune one day. He snuck up behind him in the office and threw a sleeper hold on him, and for some reason, the choke must've been too hard or something; Capt. Terhune passed out. We thought he was playing, and it took him a good minute to come to. When he did, he told us it felt like he'd slept all night. He was nothing but smiles and laughs about it. Even took the lower ranking guys, myself included, aside to ensure we knew the officer was joking and that nothing crazy needed to happen.

I don't know what I hoped to accomplish by writing. I hope you're all well. Good luck in all that you do.

From Daniel MacAdam

I just stumbled across this blog.
I was a childhood friend of Eric's. Seeing others share their memories of Eric brings back many happy memories from my youth, even as it recalls to the present my sorrow at his passing.
Eric and I met attending the same pre-K daycare in Lexington, so I guess we were...5? My family had just moved to town. Eric & I hit it off and our families became friendly. Joy & Dan were wonderfully generous and went far out of their way to help my folks feel welcome in our new home. My mom was smitten by Eric from the first moment. He was stunningly polite. I don't think mom had ever been called "ma'am" before, by one of her son's friends! When Joy came to pick him up, he asked mom if he could have a hug, "because I don't have a mommy, and I'd really like a hug." It completely melted her heart.
We did the things that kids do; imaginative play, Construction projects with Legos, building forts out of couch cushions & blankets, etc. I had my first sleepover at his house, on the bunkbeds. I remember the chiming of the big grandfather clock in the hallway, as I drifted off to sleep.
But I remember most clearly, a day when Eric was over at my house... we were probably 7 at this point. I had the bright idea, "let's play Army!"
Eric said, with conviction, "no, we're playing Marines!"
Greetings to Joy & Dan! It's been a while. I'm so fortunate to have known Eric. I will always treasure my fond memories of the good times we shared.

With Love and Best Wishes,
Daniel MacAdam, Chicago

From Bekah Granstrom

My daughters school had a Veterans Day "performance" today. They had veterans come and speak, the chorus sang our National Anthem. They played the taps, and showed a slide show of people within the school that were serving over seas. Every time they talked about our freedom or those KIA, I saw the face of Eric Terhune. I had just read your blog and it was all so fresh in my mind. I couldn't keep the tears the coming and I didn't want to. Freedom is never free and you gave the ultimate sacrifice...your life! I never knew you that well but between Dave Ziegler and my husband, I really could have! Words can not thank you enough for your sacrifice, and I will never forget you or the others that have laid down their lives for my freedom! Rest in Peace!

From Samuel "Big Bear" Wiley

Well this is the only photo i have of CAPT "D-RING" this was takin after a long day in a training exercise before we deployed to afghanistan, you know he took care of his marines it was an honor to serve with
D-RING, i remeber the day CAPT MEYER or HILL JACK as he told us to call him told me i was going to be D-RING's radio operator (RO), he came walking up the hill with a big wad of dip in his mouth haha and nothing but gear attached to him i was surprised at how easy he made it look,carrying all that gear,anyways he taught me alot about the duties of being a FAC RO, he was a very honorable man i will always remeber d-ring
he was a leader,brother, MARINE

SEMPER FI BROTHER

WILEY OR "BIG BEAR" AS HE CALLED ME

From 1st Lieutenant David Keltner

I served with CAPT Terhune on his deployment to Iraq in the summer of 2007. I was a platoon commander and D-ring was assigned periodically to my platoon to provide coordination with aircraft.
I was just wanted to share some memories:

First, Eric wasn't a complicated guy. He was open and sincere. He wasn't perfect either, known to drink a bit too much on liberty and to talk at length. But if you were in his unit, he would do whatever he could to help. There weren't many of other officers at our dust bowl of a base, but when I was mentally exhausted or overwhelmed I could go to his ply board shack and find a welcome. He even gave me the combination lock on his door, so sometimes he would come back from a mission or briefing and find me passed out on his bed or using his computer. He never was annoyed, just caring in an unassuming way. Marines don't give unsolicited counseling to each other, so opening up your personal enclave sends a stronger message of support than you might think. He came from the infantry, and even though he went on to join the air wing, he retained a genuine love for grunts. He knew our lives were harder than at the squadrons back at big airbases, and we spent our days dirty, tired, and always on the move. And because he recognized that, he made me feel appreciated.

We gave D-Ring a hard time because he LOVED GEAR. He had four different types of patrol backpacks. He was the proprietor of the largest assortments of detachable pouches and specialized flak jacket attachments I have ever seen. On multi-day patrols, he back was overloaded with more reserve water and food than all others who didn't want the weight. I'd jibe him as we stepped off, but more than once we found an IED that took a long time to dissarm or orders were changes for us to stay out longer, and a couple days into the mission I would secretly ask him for a drink or a snack after I had ran out. He always gave freely, and you could sense a satisfaction in him for being able to support the team. And that support on our level could be measured in tangible pain. Lugging water, added to the crushing weight of bullet proof armor, weapons, and ammunition, across the broken farmland and myriad of canals in suffocating Iraqi summer bears a price in pain emanating through your back and legs with precious calories spilling out your sweat. To bear the pain, and then offer a drink to your comrades who bear less, has a meaning on the deepest level of comradeship.

I think his ongoing hobby with gear and finding the right arrangement of attachments on his flak vest was indicative of his love of the job. He enjoyed preparing for missions and he loved just being a Marine. His giving nature showed that. Whatever I needed, he was there for me.

I knew I could lean on the kindness of D-Ring without even asking. I often took his willingness to help for granted. But its men like him that make of the backbone of the Marine Corps.
I hope his family can take solace in knowing that Eric truly was pursuing what brought him satisfaction and purpose: being there to give and support his fellow Marines.

I had just jumped out of the gun truck from an uneventful convoy in now relatively peaceful Iraq, when I heard the news that Eric had been killed in Afghanistan. My head hung. I saw on my flak jacket jacket the radio pouch attachment he had cheerily loaned me a year and a half ago, the fading stamp on it, 'Terhune.'

Sincerely,
1st Lieutenant David Keltner
Military Transition Team 0723, Company Advisor

I Remember.....

Memorial Days are a bittersweet occasion. Bitter, because as a nation we remember the ones who have served our country and sacrificed themselves for us; and sweet because we celebrate being beneficiaries of those sacrifices. And sweetly we celebrate...with picnics and pools and cookouts and hot dogs, ice cream, parades, excruciating heat and sprinklers, fireworks and being with family.

But ever since The Day, Memorials Days have been much more bitter than sweet, but I will continue to remember.

I remember your laugh, your soccer ball hand stands, your phone calls and you telling me how proud you were of me; I remember our phone call before my wedding and how you told me you would wear a tutu if it would make me happy on that day, I remember how you held Jaxon the first time you met him and I remember countless runs with you where I know you were going super slow so I could keep up. I remember our secret STFR club (slow-thinker-fast-runner) because we were usually the last to get the jokes, but we could run. I remember how when we were kids you would flex your muscles to make them dance and send us into fits of laughter. I remember our VBI trip, where you ate the steaks all the way down to the bone, slept out underneath the stars, played weird Korean games with us, and ate an entire bowl of garlic butter.

And I remember the day. It was a Thursday around 6:30, when Dad called me. "We've got some bad news," he said. My mind raced as I thought of all the bad things it could possibly be. "Eric got killed today."

I still remember the feeling. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was going to be sick.

After we hung up, I was still stunned in a state of shock. I picked up Jaxon and Penelope and held them close, sat on the floor and rocked them and cried and cried. I think I must have sat there until Ricky came home. I'm not sure how long it was, but when he got there and saw me, he knew something terrible had happened.

I couldn't get the words out. "Eric..." I said, and just shook my head. He knew.

I don't think there's a day that has gone by that I haven't replayed that phone call in my head. It usually comes back to me in the quiet. When I'm going somewhere alone, or the kids are sleeping in the care, or I'm up late at night with a baby, or trying to go to sleep at night.

Life has gone on, but we don't forget you. Summer and I have tons of kids now....you are an uncle 5 times over. You would get a kick out of all of them. Penelope especially. She's a thrill seeker and loves to be scared. She would love that fake bite/growl thing you always did and your duck sound. You two would get along just great.

Speaking of kids, I have to tend to the littlest one right now, so I need to wrap up. You are missed and still very much loved, and always will be.

Good Friends, Good Memories

Stolen from Rachel's blog.
Baby Eric and baby Elsa. MFEO in my opinion.
Heidi and Allie were also cut from the same cloth or something. From the moment they met, they just spoke each other's language. But Heidi also really enjoyed
At the last minute in 2001, Eric decided to come with me to Camp-of-the-Woods. He had a few free months until his active duty kicked in and wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I remember being nervous for him, wanting so much for him to think that camp was fun, wanting people to like him and all that. Boy were my fears unfounded. We came early for pre-season that year and within the first day or so found ourselves at lunch sitting across from Camlon--I don't know if they met during a work group or at that meal, but the instant connection was clear. I remember thinking, oh, good, he's found a friend. And, as M.W. Smith would say, "friends are friends forever." That weekend a big group of us went hiking up the local waterfalls and the two of them were racing each other like wild horses. For the rest of the summer, whenever I saw Eric, Camlon was usually nearby. They were instant brothers.

That fall, Eric did LIFT and became even closer with Camlon and his future wife Rachel. Years later he stood in their wedding, and last year they named their third son after him (see below).

It deeply blessed me when they stopped here this weekend on their way to San Diego. My grief has been so isolated and lonely, and it was a relief to have some kindred spirits who miss him too. I never knew Rachel well before, but it already feels like we are old friends--in a way, we are--and I wanted her to stay for a month. (come back any time!) Seeing them reminds me that Eric's legacy continues to live on, in all kinds of ways, all over the country. That if Eric is standing in a cloud of witnesses, he smiles when he witnesses them and all of us hanging out together remembering him and anticipating the Eternal Communion of Saints.

Sorry there isn't a picture of us all together here--somehow with the five small children we never fit in the official group photo. You all are the best and we hope you come again!

The Resurrection of the Body, the Life Everlasting

Last night Elsa, Heidi and I slept in Eric's room. His posters, medals, trophies and plaques still silently salute his many gifts, interests, and accomplishments. His collection of Eagles are Heidi's favorite. When I look around, I am tesseracted back to childhood. To when there were bunkbeds with bright green coverlets and plush blankets. To waking up and hearing Eric and Kendall yelling "He was here! Santa was really here!" To sprawling out as teenagers talking about school and Star Wars and ordering pizza.

And then I had this dream. We are all laughing together, in a lodge-like room with animal skins on the floors, antlers poking from the walls. Fir trees are visible through the windows. We are gathered around a tomb or a box, Acacia wood. It is empty. The room smells like incense, Cedar. It is firelight. For some reason Edie and her kids are there with us. And then in walks Eric, fresh from the war, alive and bright and golden and laughing. We find out that it was a tragic mistake. He didn't really die; a computer glitch or something was the fault. Oh, how we laughed and cried. Oh, how we hugged him, how we touched him. His hands were the same: small, paw like, always so scarred, with big watches on his wrists. He was in uniform and carrying a pack. He had come such a long, long way.

For just a moment, in my dream, it was like a weight had been lifted. Everything was all right. It could be undone. It could all be undone. And it was all so bright, so fun, so real. We didn't even realize that we had been walking around with such a heavy weight, but now we could actually stand up again, freed from our burden of grief.

I woke to Heidi crying. She had tumbled out of bed. "my forehead hurts," she whispered before she went to sleep.

He so loved the stories of Aslan. I am comforted now by the image of a Lion walking among stone statues, breathing them back to life. I'm not sure exactly what theological eschatological position we Presbyterians take on the Life to come. Perhaps, Eric, you are asleep in Jesus. Perhaps you are standing in the Great Cloud of Witnesses. But I know you are in the presence of the Lord, oh, how I am comforted by his grace and kindness.

I am comforted by resurrection and the Life Everlasting. I am comforted by the fellowship of the Saints, of the Forgiveness of Sins, by the voice of my little sister and the laughter of those I love still here. I am comforted by an Empy Tomb.

Give Thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures forever.

A New Little Eric

Eric Joseph
Born 7:20am
April 4, 2009
19 inches, 7 lbs. 5 oz. (Our little peanut!)
Photos to come!


We named him after our friend, Eric Terhune! It was an emotional delivery and we are so thankful that though there has been a parting, God has also brought a new life!

God bless this new baby! To read more about Eric's dear friends, go here.

News Hour

Note from a Brother

The note below is from Noah Stuth, who served with Eric on his last day and whom our family had the privilege of meeting at the 29 Palms Memorial Service, a tribute to Eric and several others who gave their lives last year. Thank you, Noah, for your kind words and for helping us to remember our Hero.





Dear Dan and Joy Terhune,

For the past few days I've been on the road touring prospective schools. This is the first time I've checked my email in a week. I apologize for the tardiness of my response; I hope there are not any time constraints causing undo stress. I would be more than glad to recall the events of Eric's last moments:

On June Nineteenth of 2008, in support of Afghan National Police (ANP) first squad with the attachment of Capt. Eric Terhune ( he was in my truck, 3rd in the patrol order) was on a mission in the Farah province to conduct a raid and capture known Taliban leaders. The primary mission proved futile, but follow-on missions led us to three suspected Taliban cooperatives who the ANP detained.

Between the location of the arrests and our return to base a white sedan fired upon our patrol. Our first two trucks along with several ANP trucks returned fire to the assailant who managed to escape our initail birage of fire. Our squad pursued the fleeing sedan untill it was discovered abandoned in a village on the banks Farah Rud river. There was a blood trial leading from the car into the village. While I directed the men in my tuck to maintain a watchful position near the car on the village a team of Marines, one civilian (Wes Walker), and myself followed the blood trail which yeilded the discover of two discarded RPGs in an irrigation canal, but not the insurgents.

After the initial sweep through of the village, Sgt Rollins and Sgt Swedberg (the squad leaders present) consulted with the ANP leadership and decided to conduct a final, joint sweep of the river bed as it was apparent that our assailants were injured and hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

Lance Corporal Andrew Whitacre, Captain Eric Terhune, and I moved through the village as the rest patrolled through a field adjacent. When appearently all the men were in the open an enemy position fired upon them with heavy small arms fire from a well fortified courtyard. Instantly my team ran out of the village to the field where a majority of the patrol was pinned down. We used the best position available to us to provide cover fire for the pinned-down Marines while Sgt Rollins and Cpl. Flores attempted to maneuver on the enemy position. The two advancing Marines determined entry into the courtyard implausable and retreated under heavy fire. Realizing this Eric, Andrew, and I picked up our fire to alleviate the situation. Rollins and Flores found refuge, but were invariably pinned-down. There were now five Marines and one interpreter unable to defend themselves and vulnerable to enemy fire.

The trucks with the heavy guns couldn't establish adequate suppressing fire at that moment; our only recourse was to call air support. Eric being the foward air controller had two missions now: establish communication with air and provide suppressing fire to protect his fellow Marines. This situation forced him to shoot his rifle and talk on the radio simultaneously which he accomplished by rolling from around a mud wall on top of me between radio transmissions and firing on enemy machine gun positions 75 meters to our direct front. His courage and composure was amazing.

While Eric attempted to talk to air a heavy volley of enemy fire errupted,and he was shot through his side. The injury immediately incapacitated Eric as his body succumbed to shock only seconds after the fact. He was only a few feet from my right side; Hospital Man Rumbles assisted me in moving his body to cover and performed life saving steps, but Eric had already succumbed to his injury.

Bearing witness to Eric's intrepidity and gross selflessness at the time and for the rest of my life was and will be a tremendous inspiration against adversity and imminent danger. If it wasn't for his heroic actions that day I wouldn't be here today along with several others who are. All too often in war the wager for protecting others' lives is to forfeit your own. He made that sacrifice - for that I'm eternally grateful.

Thank you,

Noah Stuth

The Lion and the Lamb

With all the joy surrounding Christmas, there will still remain a bit of sorrow. Usually we ask the question, "When will you be coming home?" This year, we know the answer to that question, but we also have hope in the fact that one day, we will be reunited when the rest of us come Home.

Until that day, we rejoice in the beautiful memories you left behind, your legacy of strength, and courage but most of all in the tenderness of your heart and gentleness of your spirit.



Christmas 2006, Eric and Jaxon, St. Joseph, MI

We Remember You

This blog comes in handy. On 9/11 and on Veterans Day, I use a PPT projector to display photos of Eric for my students at the private school where I currently teach World History. I show them pictures of my brave cousin and tell them about our life together, the last email we received, and the honorable sacrifice he made for our freedom. I remind them that there are people still fighting so that we can sit in a classroom and teach freely, and learn freely.

My students are never so silent. The room fills with reverence as the impact of Eric's life takes shape. And then we break the silence by singing the Marine's Hymn. Small ways to remember a great man.

As long as I live and breathe, I will tell people about you, Eric. I want them to know who you are and what you gave. I want your story to remain until the day we can retell it together.

Papa's Prayer

November 1, 2008
El Soledad Memorial for Eric Daniel Terhune

Dear Heavenly Father:

This is November, the month our forefathers have designated as a special time for Thanksgiving. . . so it is altogether fitting that we gather here today to thank you for this sacred place specifically set aside to honor those who served our country with extravagant zeal above and beyond the call of duty. Their lives serve as a reminder that freedom is not free, and that often the medium of exchange is the life's book of those we cherish dearly and love so much. So easy it is for us to take for granted all the blessings you have showered on our great nation, often taking little note of the terrible price of those blessings which are in such short supply throughout the rest of the world. Thank you, Lord, for those men of vision and wisdom who selected this beautiful site, where we are gathered today to remember all who have honorably served our country, including our precious Eric who more than self his country loved, and freedom more than life. We are especially thankful for Eric's written as well as verbal testimony affirming as a young man that he accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Savior thus removing the sting of death which otherwise would be so very unbearable. Because of Eric's trust in you, Lord, he often stated that should it be his lot to lay down his life for his country, he had little to fear since death for the believer is simply to be absent from the body and present with the Lord.

Do we miss him? Yes, Lord, we do. But we take great comfort in your assurance as given in I Cor. 2:5, "The eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which you hath prepared for them that that love you!" Not only did Eric serve his country well, but he do so standing firm in his faith -- no matter the cost. What a great example for those of us he left behind, Lord, and for this we are especially thankful grateful today. Yes, Lord, we grieve over our great loss, but at the same time we rejoice, knowing Eric is now safely home with you after proving himself to be a great patriot and man of value, worthy to be numbered among all those other great and faithful American heroes etched in stone here today.

Last but not least, dear Lord, thank you for Capt. Gordon Topper and all others whose planning, hard work and thoughtfulness resulted in such an extraordinary honor accorded Eric, as well as his family, here today. What a great demonstration of "Semper Fi" as well as a living exhibit of how the United States Marine Corps takes care of its own! Thank you also, Lord, for each and every one here, many of whom traveled great distances to witness this noble celebration today. Grant all a safe trip home, and for those active duty Marines and other service personnel facing deployment, we urgently pray in Jesus Name for their early and safe return.

In His name we lift our prayer,

A Selfless Marine

Eric's own band of brothers gathered the funds to commemorate him at Mt. Soledad, a veteran memorial over looking the Pacific Ocean. We met there this past weekend for the dedication of the plaque. Among the awards listed and the honors given, the phrase that stood out to me the most was inscribed at the bottom and it said, "A Selfless Marine". It spoke to me about how Christlike he was: he answered the highest calling, to lay down his life for another; he drank the cup he was given and was obedient even unto death.

Memorial Ceremony for Eric

Special Thanks to Gordon Topper for putting together this service. We look forward to meeting you and the other men who fought beside our soldier.

CAPTAIN ERIC D. “D-RING” TERHUNE


PLAQUE DEDICATION CEREMONY


1100
1 NOVEMBER 2008


MT SOLEDAD VETERAN’S MEMORIAL
LA JOLLA
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA



Introduction:
• Mr. Bruce Bailey, USAF, JAG, RET Mt Soledad Veteran’s Memorial Representative
• Opening Prayer: Chaplain CDR Freidberg
• Raising of the flag (please stand for colors)
Presentation of pins to family members
• Please proceed to the 4th level landing for a brief background on the Memorial Park
Reading and unveiling of the Plaque
• Poem “Tribute to a Marine”
• Guest Speakers:
o Paul Terhune
o Captain Gordon L. “Goose” Topper
Flag lowering to Half Mast & TAPS
• Poem “Salute to a Veteran”
Flag Folding and presentation
Closing Remarks: Thank you all for coming. Everyone is welcome to join Eric’s family at the Rock Bottom Restaurant in La Jolla immediately following. Special thanks to Eric’s family, all Eric’s friends in attendance, the volunteers at Mt Soledad, especially Joanie Miyashiro-Brennan, Bruce Bailey, The Patriot Guard and Legacy Motorcycle Clubs. Thank you.

SEMPER FIDELIS



The Marine’s hymn
From the halls of Montezuma,
To the shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land, and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marine.
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From the dawn to setting sun;
We have fought in every clime and place
Where we could take a gun;
In the snow of far-off northern lands
And in sunny tropic scenes;
You will find us always on the job
The United States Marines.
Here's health to you and to our Corps
Which we are proud to serve;
In many a strife we've fought for life
And have never lost our nerve;
If the Army and the Navy
Ever look on Heaven's scenes;
They will find the streets are guarded
By United States Marines.



A Special plaque will be placed on Mt. Soledad in honor of Eric.

Eric the Red

My six year old daughter Emmy at dinner tonight asked if I still have friends from school.  After clarifying with her, I understood what she was asking.  She has friends in her elementary school and she wants to know if she'll always be friends with these people and she is asking me if I still have friends from those days.  I named some friends of mine that I still have and then I told her about Eric and told her that he died this summer.  

Funny thing about six year olds.  She felt no need to ask why he died.  She related it to something she learned about in school recently -- she said, "His name is like Leif Ericson."  She has learned about him in school recently.  My daughter related Eric to a viking.  My friend would have liked this, I think... and laughed a good laugh.  "Yeah," I said, "He's more like Eric the Red because he had red hair."  She then replied, "Eric the Red was Leif's father."  The discussion was over from her standpoint.

But it made me think about Eric loving viking stories, books, and movies growing up.  He still liked them at 34.  When I think of him in his childhood he is always Eric the Red, adventurer, make-believe sailor and soldier -- definitely a bit of the old viking spirit and a foreshadowing of his life as a marine.

Letter to Eric from the Boo

I really wanted to write something on this blog, but I didn't know quite what to say. I still haven't quite gotten my head together about the whole thing. Late one night in early July, I was reading back through some emails that Eric sent me, especially that last one sent on June 16th that was posted earlier on this blog. That night I wrote a reply to that letter, even though it was a few weeks to late. This is it.


Dear Eric, Ive been missing you terribly lately. I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner, right when i got your email, but i was too busy? I'm so sorry. I never should have waited to answer. Thanks for writing all of us, it was so good to hear from you and get a glimpse of what your life is like over there.
Ok, i wont visit transganistan if you say so. How about meeting up in Greece instead? Italy would do too.
Oh Eric, i miss you so. I cant really believe you're not coming back this time. We are all having a hard time without you. We are still so very proud of you and the life you lived. We keep hearing wonderful things about you from your fellow marines and commanders- they praise your hard work, your bravery, your courage, and your trust in God. You were someone everyone loved, and they are fighting for you now.
I love you so much dear Cousin, and am so thankful that God put you in my life for as long as he did. You taught me so much- how to defend myself against knife attacks, how to do handstands (I couldn't do the pushup kind like you), how to swim so well. You showed me your shells from the depths of oceans, and you gave me your old flight jacket. You cared about the "boo" and were always ready to talk to me. And thanks dear Eric, for changing your plans so you could see one last time in December for only a few brief moments in the airport. It means more now than you will ever know.
My saddest thought is that you wont be there to meet my kids, my husband some day- you wont be at Christmas or thanksgiving, my wedding. But know that at each event, a place of honor will be saved for you, you will always be remembered as a hero, as a friend and brother who knew no greater love than this, to give his life for his friend.
Thanks Cuz, you mean the world to us all. I love you so much and wish you were here. My heart is breaking without you, but I trust that God is taking care of you, and you are hunting with Britta and coming in for some of Grandma's potato salad. I'll love you forever dearest Eric.
Love, the Boo

P.S. I just remembered that night when we went for a walk on the beach in Pensacola, the moon was huge! and there was some kind of phospholuminescent bacteria or something in the water, so that when we splashed in it, the waves would light up like a thousand tiny fireflies. That night was so magical, I'll remember it forever. I love you again.

Happy birthday bro

It just so happens that Eric and I, from the time we were teenagers, celebrated our birthdays together since we were born 4 days apart in 1973. We rarely missed a year even during the busy times and after college and after marriage for me. Rarely was the day of the celebration on either one of our actual birthdays, so I'm not amiss to write this today 2 days before the 13th. The picture above was taken on our 22nd birthday as best I can tell. If I'm wrong, it's certainly when we were in our early 20's.

It is amazing to me what can trigger a memory of Eric. When you are so close to someone and have spent so much time together that no one particular event is in and of itself more memorable than another this will happen. Sometimes I'm hesitant to write something on the blog because I think it is too "trivial." Let me give an example: I drove by a billboard that was an advertisement for some brand of bratwurst sausages and it had "das gut" written on it. For me this triggered a mental image of Eric with a great big grin and him saying something in a husky voice with his best impression of a thick German accent, mimicking some soldier from an old WWII movie like "Where Eagles Dare" - which was one of his favorites. Then the memory gates open more and I'm remembering how we used to pull "all nighters" watching war movies, westerns, etc in his basement. My adult mind thinks, "what a waste of time and sleep," but we loved it back then.

Watching the summer olympics made me think of Eric and his many athletic abilities more than once. He was good or great at so many things: swimming, archery, sailing, shooting, running, gymnastics (not many can do free standing hand stand push ups in the double digits at age 34, which I bet he was still doing). There are probably more, but I don't think table tennis was one of them.

One usually receives gifts on a birthday. One thing I will always think of when I remember him is how giving he always was - what a gift he was as a friend. For any out there still missing him, my heart aches along with you.